The Count and the Virgin
by peoplewillsaywereinlove
Summary: When a dark, mysterious man moves in to a quaint town in mid-19th century England, its not too long until nineteen year old housekeeper Clarice Starling finds out about the Count reigning the conversations in town. When she obtains employment from the Count herself, will she give into the passionate advances of a man hiding a darker secret?AU/Silence of the Lambs.
1. Chapter 1

Hello dear readers. This is my new fanfiction based on Silence of the Lambs/Hannibal, yet with a very different twist. This story takes place in an alternate universe, a simple town in the mid 19th century. Both Clarice and Hannibal are residents of this town, but Hannibal is not a cannibal, but something as sinister. Warning, this is a mature story, with sexual and passionate scenes to come. Please read and review; I appreciate all feedback. The more reviews, the faster I write.

Clarice Starling and Hannibal Lecter are property of Thomas Harris. All other characters and story line are mine.

Enjoy. :)

* * *

"I am almost done, Ma'am," the young woman stated, cleaning the last remaining silver pots in the kitchen. Her simple dress waved as she cleaned the silver thoroughly, sweat accumulating on her fine brow. Her long auburn hair shined in the morning sun, her face a beautiful testament of youth.

Nineteen year old Clarice was almost done with her duties at Lady Anne's cottage. She was thankful she didn't have anything else done for the rest of the day. She needed a long rest.

"Oh, Clarice. Spotless as always!", Lady Anne proclaimed, handing her a small coin bag. "I will make sure to write to you again. You are definitely the best maid I have ever met."

Clarice smiled kindly, tossing her long braid behind her. She always did her duties with pride and happiness. Although she was trying to save up to become a school teacher, the young woman knew she had to sacrifice some things to achieve her dreams. If she had to scrub the floors of every house in town, then so be it.

Soon, Clarice was out the door and into the streets of her hometown. Passerby's and carriages walked by; a busy morning indeed.

Orphaned at ten, the beautiful child took care of herself with the simple act of cleaning. Now she owned a small cottage at the end of the town, near the marketplace. It was quaint, but it was home.

Clarice was passing by the meat stand, where her ears picked up something peculiar.

"Oh yes, very rich indeed. He moved in last night in the mansion outside town!", the butcher stated, talking to the group accumulating in front of his stand.

"I hear he's rich AND charming. Count Hannibal Lecter is soon to make news, I hear", the seamstress proclaimed, blushing at the counts name.

"I hear he's a sort of vampire!" the newspaper boy said, pretending the use his fingers as fangs.

Clarice wasn't much for gossip, but she couldn't help stop near them and hear. A new resident in town? This would certainly be the new subject of conversation for weeks.

When Clarice arrived at her cottage, she melted into her bath, feeling her muscles relax at the cold water. Every day she wished for hotter water, but like every day, she would have to be satisfied with what she had been given. She was thankful for what she had.

* * *

It was daybreak. Clarice was already up, combing her hair and dressing herself in her simple maid's dress yet again. Her wondrous curves shown through the cotton, as her blue-green eyes shined. Clarice was ready for her duties at farmer John's house. He was an older man, but very kind and always tried to help Clarice. She was happy to clean his stables.

A knock at the door echoed in the small house. Clarice opened the door to a messenger boy.

"I have a message from farmer John. He won't be needing your services, Miss. He's busy with his goat's labor. He's very sorry and will write to you later."

With that, the young boy turned around and left.

Seems like today would be a slow day, Clarice thought.

...

On days like these, the young woman would take a stroll around town. Perhaps she would get some new supplies, or perhaps some new food for tonight. She spent the day looking for anything she needed, admiring the town's architecture and the beauty of the people in it.

It was almost dark when Clarice was finally done with her errands. She looked up to the darkening sky; the stars were coming out, shining like gems against the dark background. It was distracting, as Clarice hadn't noticed the dark figure before her. His alluring scent filled her nostrils as her small frame bumped into the tall man.

"Oh, forgive me, sir!", Clarice stated, bowing her head and looking up into the strangers face. He was older, around forty years of age, while his eyes were a strange, maroon color. The man, although older, was as alluring as he was handsome. He wore a dark coat, accentuating his slim but muscular frame. When he looked upon the young beauty, his lips curved into a sensual smile.

"Not all, my dear. I beg_ you_ to forgive me," the man stated, taking her petite hand into his. The leather glove was warm against her skin. His thin lips touched her hand, sending a strange warmness into Clarice's body. She felt naked before him.

"Count Hannibal Lecter, at your service. Your name, my dear?" he asked, his eyes gleaming in the light of the lantern above the pair.

"Oh…um- Clarice. Clarice Starling."

"Beautiful name, Miss Starling. But that is not surprising. A beautiful woman with a beautiful name…." he stated, smiling again. Clarice was finding it hard to breathe.

"I must be off. But I do hope I will see you again, dear. Perhaps, sooner than you'd think."

The man bowed lowly and tipped his hat, turning around and walking toward the mansion outside town. The dark building looked ominous in the horizon.

Her arm was still warm as she walked back to her house, enjoying the briskness of the night. She couldn't help think of those maroon eyes; so that was the count, and he truly was the new wealthy resident in town.

As she found herself in her house again, Clarice realized it was rather difficult to forget those enigmatic eyes.

* * *

Days passed since that night under the lantern. Clarice had found new jobs in town to earn a few coins; she could not have been happier as she knew she would have enough to eat for a few weeks.

It was a Sunday afternoon; Clarice had returned from a busy morning. As she unlocked her wooden door, she noticed an elegant letter lying on her stone pathway.

She picked up the letter gently and read on:

_Dear Miss Starling,_

_I might be new to this quaint little town, but news travels as fast as lightning. I have heard that if I would like my house cleaned, that you, my dear, is the woman to trust. And trust, I already do. _

_ I would like to hire you to become my housekeeper. I assure you, the payment is beyond compare. _

_Tonight, around sunset; this is an invitation to better become acquainted over tea. However, I do know that becoming friends will not be too difficult._

_Until then, Miss Clarice._

_Count Hannibal Lecter_


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the reviews, follows, and reads. I appreciate every one! Ill be updating soon again! I apologize for the wait;this is a short chapter unfortunately, since I have not had much time to write but I will try my best to update soon. Please continue reading and reviewing; they truly help.

Much Love.

* * *

The water was served scalding hot in fine china, laid before the young woman seated at the glass table. Different cups held strange herbs and spices.

Clarice felt extremely out of place in her simple dress. She was sitting in a gorgeous burgundy-colored room, a small elegant chandelier illuminating the area above her. Although it was already getting dark, it seemed even darker in the Counts mansion.

Candles were placed on the intricate wooden furniture near her. The air was chilly.

She was alone, waiting for the mysterious potential employer, growing ever more nervous. Was this the right decision?

Clarice truly needed the income but there was something about this house that made her hairs stand on their ends. She could feel her heart beating fast in her chest.

Footsteps echoed in the halls.

Soon a dark figure emerged from

the corridor.

Count Hannibal Lecter stood before, looking strikingly handsome in a dark rouge suit. His coat was black against the walls. His lips curled into a smirk.

"Miss Clarice Starling...good evening."

"H-Hello, sir. Your home..it's very beautiful. "

"Ah yes, thank you. Just a little decoration here and there. But it's quite too large, and with my busy schedule, I do not think ill be able to clean it all by my lonesome. Do

You see the dilemma?" The Count asked, sitting down in front of Clarice.

She could smell his strong perfume; alluring was an understatement.

"I do hope I can help," Clarice stated, smiling kindly.

The Count poured the water on some herbs, filling the room with a sweet tenderness. He then mixed it gracefully with a silver spoon, adding the remaining herbs. Clarice could smell chamomile, but the rest was a mystery.

"It's my own little concoction. I do

hope you will enjoy it."

"I don't doubt that, sir. Thank you."

She took a sip after watching the Count take one himself. It was probably one of the most delicious teas she had ever tasted. Her tongue was tasting heaven.

"This is wonderful! How did you-?"

"A secret, dear. My quaint little secret," The count smiled mischievously.

"Now, unto the boring part. Business then. "

He folded his legs together smoothly, putting his hand under his chin. The counts dark eyes were burning into Clarice's.

"5 pence. A day. You may help yourself to my kitchen any time you would like. There are countless of rooms if you are in need of a place to spend the night. All I ask is for you to dust and sweep the house. And anything else that might be...out of place, perhaps. This employment is quite flexible..."

The count was watching her closely. She was beyond astounded; Clarice was usually paid less than a pence per day.

"It's too much really, sir. A pence would be completely fine with me. I would be satisfied with that."

A low chuckle escaped the Counts lips.

"I will not pay any less..."

His eyes burned again.

It seemed like negotiating was useless with this man.

Although conflicted morally, Clarice knew it would be foolish to deny his offer.

"It's a deal then, sir."

Clarice smiled again. The Count indulged in her beauty once more.

"Perfection. "

The Count calmly got up from his gold trimmed chair; he walked toward Clarice. Within seconds he was behind her, too fast before Clarice could begin to move. His lips were close to her neck. He was so very close that she could smell the spices of the tea on his breath, mixing with his strong cologne. Her mind was spinning.

"When can you begin?"


	3. Chapter 3

Hello readers! I want to apologize for taking forever in updating. It's been a stressful month. But I'm trying my best now to update more frequently. Thank you for sticking with me; I really truly appreciated it.

Here's a new update; I'm trying my hardest to make them longer, for those that were giving me feedback about the length. Hopefully I'll be able to write more in the coming weeks. Please review guys! It helps with the writing process. Any feedback is welcome.  
Thank you and Enjoy.  
Xox

* * *

The beauty of the mansion made Clarice speechless as she toured the house's vast hallways and courtyards. Her employment had started swiftly; the young girl knew this wouldn't be an easy task, however.  
The mysterious Count had hired her on the spot. Clarice was grateful for this opportunity, and knew this was something rare and precious.

It had been two weeks in her new employment. She could not help get lost in the array of colors around her as she cleaned the mansion. The young girl would make sure not to get distracted, nevertheless. She cleaned the house thoroughly, taking almost the whole day to tidy up the rooms. Perfection was a skill of hers.

There was one thing that she noticed about the whole situation: the appearance of the Count himself. She barely saw him during the day, and when the sun set, a small intricate coin purse was left at the door with a single red rose. Clarice knew it was her payment for the day, but there were times she wished she could at least thank him for his employment. As she dusted the expensive furnishings and washed the marble floors, she could not help wonder what the Count was up to.

Clarice would never pry into his business, but that did not mean she was not curious.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and it would be sunset soon. Clarice was having a difficult time with a few stains of the wooden floor of the kitchen. Her back was already feeling the pain of the labor, but she would not go home until this stain was out.

That's when she heard that beautiful noise again. A sweet melody played wonderfully on a violin.  
It always came from upstairs, near his bedroom.  
Clarice had heard his playing before. It was something that made these long days favorable under the strong labor.

Today, the Count was playing a soft tune; it reminded Clarice of summertime, when the sun would set late in the evening and she could still hear the birds at night.

When the young girl had finished her task, she lifted herself from the floor and breathed in deeply, a sigh of relief escaping her rose lips.  
It had been a successful day, and she felt quite proud of herself.

She looked out toward the large kitchen window only to feel some disappointment.  
It was already dark outside, with barely any sun illuminating town. Clarice would have to hurry home.

Footsteps approached the kitchen, echoing against the glass window.

"Is everything alright, Miss Starling?"

The count stood in the entryway, clothed in a dark magenta suit. His ruffled shirt matched perfectly with the hue of purple, a crisp white cloth beneath the complex robe.  
Clarice couldn't help feel embarrassed as her simple work dress paled in comparison.

"Good evening, sir. Everything's alright, and everything's cleaned. I was just on my home. Thank you, then. H-Have a good night."  
Clarice didn't have time to turn around as his low voice called out again.  
"Miss Starling, it's much too late to travel. I would not want you in any danger, now. You are welcome to stay the night in one of the guest rooms. I believe them to be quite hospitable", the Count proclaimed, a smirk appearing on his thin lips.

"Oh, um...it's alright, I can hurry hom-"

A sigh escaped the Counts lips.  
He seemed saddened by her words.

"Ah, you are injuring my delicate feelings, Miss Starling. Am I that frightening to you?" The Count replied, seemingly distraught.

Clarice surely did not want to upset the Count. And to be honest, it had gotten dark quite fast.  
Perhaps, one night would be alright, the young girl thought.

"I-I do not want to impose, sir."

"Oh, nonsense, my dear."  
He walked toward her gracefully.

"You are a guest now."  
A smile appeared on his lips as his smell made Clarice's mind spin.

-  
She was no longer the maid this night. She would be a guest, and the Count knew how to treat guests.

He offered her a meal, but she declined politely; she had already eaten a few small bites before sunset. Additionally, Clarice felt like an imposition to the Counts home, no matter what he said  
She was determined to sleep and, at sunrise, go straight home.

She was seated in the grand leather chair in the living room; the young maiden was facing the wondrous fireplace, it's stone carvings surrounding it's large frame. Clarice was warming herself,comfortably engulfed in the heat to notice the Count at the doorway.

He surveyed her, taking in the beauty before him. She seemed so delicate against the fire, as if she were about the melt. But her beauty conquered.  
Her lips curved into a sweet smile.

"Beautiful, isn't she?"

A voice called from the shadows.

The Count walked into living room, taking Clarice by surprise. He sat at a polite distance from the girl, on the other couch. However, he was close enough that she could take in that scent of his.  
She was grateful for the red hue of the fireplace; he could not see her blush.

"An old friend paid his debt with this fireplace. One of my favorite gems of this place."

"It truly is so. I've never felt such a heat," Clarice stated.  
He looked toward her now, looking at her deep blue irises.  
"A heat, indeed. Times like these I wonder if there is a fire within us."

She looked at him, taking in his words; intrigue shined in her eyes.

"What do you mean, sir?"

The County approached her, leaning at her side. She didn't even have time to breath, as he took her soft hand into his. His lips touched her forearm with a strange gentleness.

"I can feel your heat radiating off your skin, Miss Starling. It smells of pure silk and rain. Except...there is..."

He delve down into her skin, kissing it softly, slowly kissing higher, into the crease of her elbow. Her heart was bursting in her rib cage; she could not think. She could not breath.

He was so close, as his eyes met hers. The fire illuminated his maroon eyes, looking like a tranquil hell.  
Clarice was melting.

"Do you feel this heat, my dear?"

His mouth found her neck, nuzzling a kiss near her ear. The Counts mouth was dancing on her skin, spreading a fire through her bones. She closed her eyes at his intense touch, her chest shaking lightly as his strong arms explored her own.

A hell in his eyes. A hell in her mind.  
Her mind was faded as he stopped his actions and looked up at the young maiden.

She will be mine.


End file.
